


The Barkeep and his Prince

by minbins



Category: NU'EST
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barkeep!Baekho, Bottom Choi Minki | Ren, M/M, Oral Sex, Prince!Ren, Riding, Rimming, Smut, Top Kang Dongho | Baekho, artsy internal monologues mid-fuck, baekren are in love, baekren gay, crying from pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 03:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19822012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minbins/pseuds/minbins
Summary: “I love you,” Baekho murmurs, kissing him again, and it sounds like a prayer, like the voice of a man who’s been allowed to love an angel.





	The Barkeep and his Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norudeghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norudeghosts/gifts).



> goth, this is for u

“Are we safe?” he asks, the last one in the tavern besides the barkeeper himself. He’s been sat there quietly for something near to an hour before closing time, shrouded in shadows in the bar’s darkest corner. Baekho brought him a drink earlier, placing it before him and leaving within a blink of an eye. They couldn’t risk drawing attention onto him, but him sitting there with nothing would have been more suspicious still. While the last dregs of the town slowly siphoned away, deliberately slow, it seemed, until the two were left alone, the man had pretended to drink. He didn’t much like the taste of ale, but he could feign it.

Baekho nods, following a final cursory scan of their surroundings. The door is locked now, the shutters closed and the room lit only by the lamp that Baekho has carried over. He sets it down upon the table and reaches out. Finally, the heavy hood obscuring the other man’s face is lowered. “My prince,” Baekho greets him, tracing his cheekbone with one of his work-calloused fingers. 

Ren’s smile is radiant enough that Baekho wonders if he needs the lamplight at all. 

“Did you miss me?” he asks, as he always asks.

“Like the other half of my soul,” Baekho replies, as he always does. “You look beautiful tonight,” he tells him, the finger on Ren’s cheekbone moving down as he cups his cheek with his full hand. Every time they see each other, Baekho treasures the sight of Ren, treats him like his world. He is, and they’re both fully aware of that. It’s okay, though, because he too is the centre of his prince’s universe. Somehow. Baekho will never understand how a lowly barkeep is the sole possessor of Ren’s heart, of the heir to the entire kingdom. He doesn’t protest it, for he’d be a fool to complain about such an honour, yet still he quietly wonders.

“Only tonight?” Ren replies with a pout, leaning into Baekho’s gentle touch nonetheless. 

Baekho shakes his head fondly, having seen such words coming. Ren is nothing but predictable, though Baekho knows that is something he alone can say truthfully. To the rest of the kingdom, Ren is like ice, impenetrable and impossible to read. For Baekho, however, he is an open book. His for the taking. “Don’t be silly, love,” Baekho sighs, fondness etched into every last part of his features. “Tonight and always. You know that— we both know you do.”

“I do,” Ren affirms, stepping closer to Baekho and slipping an arm around his waist. His apron is dirty from a day’s hard work, but neither care. It isn’t as if it will stay on much longer, anyway. The same can be said for all of Baekho’s weathered attire. “I still like to hear it from your mouth. Among other things, of course.”

Ren leans in a little, their slight height difference quickly closing as he stops just before their lips can touch. A smile tugs at Baekho’s lips as he looks up at him. “What would those ‘other things’ be, my love?” Baekho is now the one to lean in ever so slightly, and his smile grows wider when Ren’s breath audibly catches in his throat. As always, Ren loves to tease but cannot take anything close to what he gives. “What is it, baby?” Baekho asks, his arms moving to circle Ren’s slim waist, not wanting to leave any opportunity for him to shy away in embarrassment as he was wont to do. “Is it my moans you like to hear, or your name? Both, perhaps?...”

The little gasp that Ren lets out as Baekho lifts him with ease, sitting him on the edge of the worn table, is something that he’ll never tire of hearing. Their height difference now exacerbated, Baekho cares little as he comes to stand between Ren’s thighs, arms still around him. He reaches up with one hand, fingers threading through Ren’s soft hair as he pulls him down for a heady kiss which leaves both gasping despite lasting for mere seconds. Ren’s hair falls loosely around his shoulders now as they lean their foreheads together. It must have been plaited during his daytime ‘princely duties’, as it’s imprinted with soft waves in the aftermath of a braid. As he did the last time Ren visited, at which point the colour was brighter, Baekho thanks the heavens that someone let Ren dye his hair lilac. It’s fading a little now, yet is somehow prettier like that. 

He’s beautiful, and Baekho is sure to tell him again, just for the reward of the smile that lights up his lover’s face at the words. Ren ducks his head and kisses Baekho quickly once, twice on his lips and then pecks the tip of his nose. “I’ve missed you,” he confesses, sighing contentedly as Baekho pets his hair, blunt nails scratching lightly over his scalp. He loves the slight tingling feeling it brings, and Baekho knows it.

“It’s only been a week, my prince,” Baekho counters, leaning upwards as he kisses the underside of Ren’s jaw, moving slowly down the column of his pretty neck. They both know he can’t leave marks there, somewhere so obvious, but they revel in the illusion that he could as Baekho lightly nips at Ren’s pulsepoint, kissing over and around it while it thrums beneath his touch. His heart is beating like crazy as it always does when he’s the full focus of Baekho’s undivided attention. “Surely a lowly servant to the kingdom doesn’t warrant such longing.”

Pulling away from him enough to do so, Ren glares at him. It’s his full on haughty, imperial _I-own-this-whole-Kingdom_ sort of glare, one he’s worthy of given that he _will_ one day. Despite himself, Baekho balks beneath his gaze. Though he could break Ren in two with his bare hands, Ren is aeons ahead of any social status someone like Baekho could ever aspire to. And yet Ren loves him still. “I’ll beat your muscular ass, Dongho,” he warns, and Baekho knows he’s in deep shit if Ren is bringing out his given name. “You’re my everything and you _better_ believe it.

In their kingdom, given names are a guarded secret due to the power they hold. If one knows another’s birth name, it’s a gesture of trust beyond near anything else. Though still possible to without, curses and any sort of enchantments upon another take much easier when cast with their true name. Most royals, therefore, never tell a soul their given name. Often, this includes even their spouses— unfortunately, there was a precedent of spies marrying into the royal family just to gain such power. That had, in fact, been the cause of the last great war.

Baekho is reminded, as Ren knew he would be, that Ren loves him above any other. By invoking Baekho’s given name, Ren reminds him that _he knows his._ To other — faraway — kingdoms, the ones where names hold no power, people wouldn’t understand the gravity of such a thing. Besides Ren’s own parents, Baekho is the only one who knows his name, though he’s never said it aloud, even after Ren told him. It feels too sacred to him, the name of a royal. He’s scared that, despite their caution, Ren will come to some form of harm if he ever dares to speak it.

Still, he’s reminded that he is able to, should he so desire.

“I love you,” Baekho murmurs, kissing him again, and it sounds like a prayer, like the voice of a man who’s been allowed to love an angel. He’d only been joking about being lowly — mostly, at least, as Ren was ethereal and above anyone, Baekho himself among them — but the level of Ren’s reassurance has sent him careening into a warm glow of happiness. “So much, my prince.”

“Then _show me_ ,” Ren urges, tilting his neck, baring it invitingly. Baekho takes the hint and returns to lavishing attention upon soft skin, paying as much as he can to the sweet spot beneath Ren’s jaw that makes him keen without leaving the marks he longs to. A fine silver chain glints over Ren’s collarbones, long enough that it dips way beneath the fastenings of the cloak Ren still has draped around his slight frame. The only one allowed to do so, Baeko pulls it up and free, revealing the ring that hangs on the end of it. This is the promise held between the two of them alone, the only tangible sign of the secret they keep together. The matching one Baekho owns stays on his finger, as nobody bats an eye at a ring on the hand of a bartender in an unknown corner of the kingdom.

It’s hard for Baekho’s slightly possessive streak, knowing that nobody can know that he loves the crown prince of their kingdom. Many do, but none other than him are loved back just as much. This, at least, he can revel in: the knowledge that Ren always wears something of Baekho’s around his pretty neck. “Beautiful,” he wonders, softly enough that neither are sure if he even realises he says it aloud. Gently kissing the ring, he lets it fall back against Ren’s chest.

“You like it, don’t you?” Ren says, and they both _know_ that he does. “You like that I’m marked as yours.” He’s doing it deliberately, needy for more than he’s currently getting and playing into Baekho’s possessiveness to his own ends. “I’m all yours, baby,” he promises, sealing it with a kiss and moving to tug on Baekho’s earlobe with his teeth. The next words, therefore, are spoken directly next to him. “Take what’s yours, won’t you, my love? Show me how much you missed me. Make sure I have something to remember while I’m missing you next, huh?” Baekho tenses, the hand in Ren’s hair gripping a little too tight in the way Ren _loves,_ moaning at the pain-pleasure before he speaks once more. “Baekho, baby,” he pouts, batting his pretty eyes and making his tone just that slight bit more breathy, “I _need_ you.”

Baekho, intimidatingly broad though he may be, is nothing but a slave to Ren’s desires when he gets like this (and all of the time, if he’s honest with himself). The worst part of it all is that Ren is fully aware of that. Baekho has never been able to resist Ren; he doubts he will _ever_ manage to. This is no exception.

Grasping one of Ren’s thighs in each hand, Baekho hoists him up effortlessly like he’s holding nothing but air. Ren whines deep in his throat at this, hips bucking against his lover’s toned stomach as Baekho walks them both to his bedroom with ease. It never fails to turn him on, being lifted as light as a feather and manhandled by him. Thrown onto the bed, Ren bounces against the mattress and laughs lightly, looking up at Baekho with a wide smile. He looks happy, _truly_ happy in the way he only ever is when he’s with him. “Eager, honey?” he asks, feigning innocence as if he hasn’t just been pulling every trick in his arsenal to rile Baekho up until he snaps. 

Baekho rolls his eyes, but his mouth goes dry when he finally unfastens the cloak shrouding the rest of Ren’s body from his heated gaze. _“Ren!”_ he chokes out, shaking his head as if to clear it of water as blood rushes in his ears. Unable to quite believe that Ren had _really_ snuck out of the castle dressed like _this_ , Baekho reaches out a hand that is _absolutely not trembling_ (it is) and traces the ornate neckline of Ren’s shirt. It’s a womans design, that’s for sure, and meant to be worn as part of an outfit, not on its own as Ren has opted for. It’s not like Baekho is particularly intuitive in realising this: it’s sheer white lace that is near entirely see-through. The neck of it dips down almost to the bottom of his ribcage, and when Baekho’s hand rests on the bare skin above it he can feel Ren’s heart thundering beneath his touch. It never fails to flatter him, being so utterly desired. 

“Yes?” Ren replies only after the heavy silence between them is pulled taut enough to snap. “Do you like your present?” _Present?_ Baekho doesn’t know what he’s done to warrant a present, but he thanks his past self for whatever it was. Confused, he nods eagerly nonetheless. Ren huffs, shaking his head in exasperation. “Darling…” he trails off, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at Baekho with a long-suffering expression. _“Please_ don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own damn birthday.”

Oh.

“I…” Baekho looks away guiltily. “I haven’t _not_ forgotten it.”

“It’s a good thing you have me, then,” Ren rolls his eyes. In his defense, Baekho is somewhat of a lone wolf, with nobody except him and his lover even knowing when the hell his birthday is. Well, actually just Ren, so it seems. Today has just been another day at work, lightened up at the end by Ren’s surprise arrival. “Someone needs to remember for you.”

“I always remember yours, at least!” Baekho feebly tries to defend himself, voice not quite working to its usual strength as Ren tosses the cape fully away. Not only is the shirt lacy and low-cut, it’s also _cropped._ This is it, Baekho decides, the end of his time on this planet. 

At least he’s going to die happy.

“Baekho, sweetie,” Ren sighs, “my birthday is quite literally a national holiday.” Baekho doesn’t really have any way to argue with that. Without complaint, he lets Ren undo his work apron and throw it balled up into a corner of the room, making quick work of his shirt in a similar fashion. “But,” the prince continues, “This isn’t about _my_ birthday right now— I’m all dressed up for yours, so I suggest you focus on that.”

“Needy,” Baekho says, ducking out of the way as Ren swats at his head and then leaning down to kiss him, caging him against the mattress. “Hey, no hitting me— it’s my _birthday_.”

“Wishing I hadn’t clued you in right about now,” Ren replies, tilting his neck to the side for Baekho to resume paying him attention just the same. Gladly, Baekho does so, working his way quickly down to mouth over Ren’s pretty collarbones and then lower, pressing a kiss just above where his neckline ends and the lace begins. “But I promise not to hit you if you _-ah-_ keep that up, _fuck,_ baby.”

Baekho, pushing the lace to the side a little as he doesn’t want to take the top off Ren just yet, kisses over the stiff peaks of his nipples, rolling them between his teeth in turn. He smiles to himself a little sadistically as Ren helplessly bucks his hips up against nothing, Baekho holding himself above him while also pinning down his wrists. When Ren doesn’t get what he wants right away, he becomes steadily whinier and _louder_ in his whining. It’s something that Baekho always eagerly anticipates— rarely does he have to wait for very long. Sure enough, with another nip of teeth against flushed skin, Ren is keening without abandon, shifting uselessly on the bed in search of friction. “You alright there, baby?” Baekho asks, as if he doesn’t know.

“Do you want this birthday to be your last?” Ren bites out in reply, not sounding particularly threatening while barely able to speak, but with enough venom in his eyes that Baekho relents. The moan Ren lets out as Baekho’s thigh moves between his legs is reward enough for relinquishing his desperate whines. It’s a worthy trade off, and Baekho doesn’t regret it. He now, after all, is blessed by the feeling of Ren rutting up against him, using Baekho’s thigh to get himself off. That is not, of course, how he plans for Ren to reach completion. He has a vision in mind involving decidedly less clothes. 

With that in mind, Baekho one-handedly unbuckles Ren’s ornate belt, used to the fancy shit the castle staff give him to wear by now. He’d use both hands, as it isn’t easy with one even with his considerable experience in the subject, but Ren has already claimed his other, dragging it up to his mouth to suck on his fingers. Sacrifices for things as hot as that just have to be made, Baekho decides, managing somehow to get the buckle undone so he can pull down Ren’s expensive trousers. Still with a mouthful of Baekho’s fingers, Ren lifts his hips so that his lover can get them off entirely, leaving him just in… _More Lace._

Baekho, looking at what Ren is wearing, tries to decide whether this is the best or worst day of his life. Somehow, it’s both: Ren is wearing panties. Baekho wants to die.

With an indecent _pop_ , Ren pulls Baekho’s fingers from his mouth, smiling sweetly. “Do you like them, baby?” he asks, somehow looking like the epitome of sin fused with an angel. It’s devastating, admittedly, but Baekho is more than willing to be ruined. 

“Where did you even _get_ these?” Baekho wonders, pulling the hem so it snaps back against Ren’s hipbone. He’s rewarded by a soft gasp, falling from Ren’s pretty lips and leaving them open in its wake. Mouth slightly parted, cheeks flushed, Ren is a work of art, cock straining against the confines of his lace panties, wetting them with precome as he waits for Baekho’s next move.

“I have my ways,” Ren replies cryptically. Probably Hwangmin, the servant that always helped Ren escape to visit him, lying and saying he was in bed for an early night’s sleep. He never knows why he leaves, but helps him nonetheless. It’s probably how he got the top as well. “Just be grateful you get to see them.”

He is, _God_ , Baekho will be grateful for the rest of his life, though that won’t be long if Ren keeps looking like that. Moving a little further down the bed, Baekho eases the panties down Ren’s thighs, trailing kisses along his hip bones as he does so, finally somewhere where he’s allowed to mark him. He doesn’t take that for granted, leaving bite-marks and freshly blooming hickeys wherever his lips touch, working down to his thighs where he continues. Baekho has to hold his legs still, so much are they quaking, and again Ren _whines_ beautifully. Though Ren is already a masterpiece in his own right, Baekho makes him his canvas just the same. 

Even if Ren were someone of a lower class than Baekho himself, not the crown prince to the kingdom, Baekho would still worship him just the same. He knows that Ren knows this, and that it’s one of the reasons he loves him so much. At last, Baekho returns to the centre of his parted thighs, to where Ren is being very vocal about needing him. “Shush, baby,” Baekho tells him softly, gently fondling his balls and revelling in the choked out moan he gets in response. “I’ve got you.” He kisses along the length of his dick to the base, then runs his tongue back up to the tip in one fluid movement. Ren keens, and Baekho hums as he suckles briefly on the tip, pulling back to watch him a little. 

Just like everything about Ren, his dick is pretty. Flushed pink at the tip, it curves slightly towards his stomach, shining from Baekho’s efforts and dribbling a little too. It’s not as big as Baekho’s by any means, but that just means that it’s easier for Baekho to take him in his mouth completely, so neither are complaining. Especially not Ren, given Baekho has just done so. Moaning unabashedly, Ren pulls at Baekho’s hair to ground himself, in turn making Baekho moan around him. Though Ren bucks into his mouth, Baekho takes it in his stride, grabbing his hips and urging him deeper. He can take it, and they both know that, but eventually Ren reluctantly pulls him off. Baekho cocks his head, confused. “This is _your_ birthday, Baek,” he explains, urging him to move up and kiss him with gentle tugs on his hair. 

Not one to deny him, Baekho gives in, gripping Ren’s jaw and moving his thigh against him again as he kisses him. As much as Ren wants to focus on Baekho instead, he welcomes the friction, moaning between them as Baekho bites at his lower lip. Still, Ren works his hand between them, managing to undo the other man’s trousers with ease. “Fuck,” Baekho gasps against him as Ren wraps one of his small hands around his neglected dick. He hadn’t realised until now just how much he had needed to be touched.

Ren drinks up his newly regained control, kissing Baekho’s collarbones as he thumbs the head of his dick, pulling his trousers further down until Baekho can kick them off. Unlike Baekho, Ren doesn’t have to hold back from marking anywhere visible, and Baekho’s chest soon shows that, littered with Ren’s handiwork. Slowly, deliberately, Ren leaves an obvious trail of bite-marks all the way down, smiling each time Baekho moans. The older man willingly lets their dynamic shift, holding Ren’s long hair behind his head when he leans down to suck him off but letting him make all the moves. Their relationship is very much push and pull, and he is Ren’s as completely as Ren is his. 

Unlike Baekho, Ren gags when he goes down too far, holding it still for a few seconds before he pulls back, lips swollen and shining as he gasps for air. _Pretty_ , Baekho thinks to himself or, apparently it seems, accidentally says out loud, as Ren smiles up at him. “Thank you, my love,” he says, pecking a kiss to the tip of Baekho’s dick and giggling as it jerks in his hand. “You look beautiful too, darling.”

What he can’t fit in his mouth, which is around half, Ren jerks with a spit-slicked hand, his fingers not quite meeting around him. Every time Baekho sees Ren’s hand on his dick, it’s an ego boost like none other. Well, that and the fact that he’s somehow snagged the kingdom’s prince (and that said prince is sucking him off). Ren as a whole fuels Baekho’s ego, so far beyond anyone’s league that it’s insane to Baekho to be wanted by him. Yet he is, Ren eager to take him in and tears beading on his lashes from how hard he’s working to please him. All too soon, overwhelmed from being the focus of such perfection, Baekho draws close enough that he needs to pull Ren off.

“Wanna fuck me, baby?” Ren asks, his voice hoarse, lower than before. Baekho will have to fight back a smile the following day when news travels that the precious crown prince has come down with a cold. Eagerly, Baekho nods and reaches for the tub of lubricant on top of his bedside table. Yes, it was just on top instead of in the drawer, but Baekho had _really_ missed Ren last night. 

Ren just laughs; they both know that he’s the same. In fact, when Baekho reaches between Ren’s thighs, his legs parting at once, he learns that Ren has been getting up to business even more recently than Baekho himself. When he turns him over, wanting to see him better, Baekho is momentarily distracted from his previous actions. The sinful shirt that Ren is wearing doesn’t just stop its torture with the sheer, low-cut front— the back is actually even worse for Baekho’s health. Entirely open, it’s held together only by a series of thin chains connecting either side. 

“Been getting ready already, have we?” Baekho asks him, delighting in the pretty flush that rises on Ren’s cheeks, unaffected though he pretends to be. Baekho taps the pad of his pointer finger on Ren’s hole and he jolts, whimpering and trying to cover the sound with the back of his hand. Insistently, Baekho pulls the hand away. “Let me hear you,” he implores, pressing a kiss to one of the marks he’s already left on Ren’s thighs. “It’s my birthday, remember?”

“Well _you_ don’t,” Ren points out petulantly, but grips the sheets obediently nonetheless. When next Baekho presses his finger against him, Ren moans unobstructed and it’s as beautiful as ever. With the addition of lubricant, the first finger slides in easily. Ren must have prepped _just_ before leaving to meet him, so stretched is he already for Baekho. He smells sweet too, like the scented bathwater up at the palace, so Baekho supposes he knows _where_ he did so. “More,” Ren demands almost at once. Usually, he’d take it slower, but given how ready the prince already is Baekho sees no reason to deny him. Two is almost as easy as the first, and Baekho picks up the speed a little. Not enough though, it seems, given that Ren is soon grinding his hips back onto Baekho’s hand. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Baekho steadies him with a large hand on his hip. Ren’s skin, though now mottled with lovebites, looks ridiculously smooth beneath the roughness of Baekho’s hard-working hands. Cleaning up after rowdy townsfolk all day doesn’t make for the most pampered skin. He’d learned not long into their relationship, however, that Ren was completely into that. Baekho certainly isn’t complaining. 

“No,” Ren retorts, tilting his head so that he can glare at him. “I’m _ready_ , baby, just fuck me already.”

“Not yet,” Baekho chides, biting at one of Ren’s asscheeks just for the satisfaction of hearing him yelp. Actually, that gave him an idea, one Ren guesses as soon as Baekho peppers soft kisses at the base of his spine. 

“Baekhooo,” he whines, “why won’t you stop _teasing_ me already?”

“Do you want me to stop, then?” Baekho asks, deliberately close enough that Ren should be able to feel his breath on his bare skin. Ren shivered— it had worked. 

“N-No,” Ren replies after a long pause, words faltering as he forces himself to admit it. 

“Wanna sit on my face, sweetheart?” Baekho prompts gently, turning Ren around to look at him. Ren pouts at him, annoyed at having to choose between being eaten out and the immediate gratification of getting fucked, but opts for the former. It’s the logical choice— this way, he gets both. At Ren’s nod, Baekho flips their positions, Baekho’s back against the sheets and Ren straddling him. “Hold onto the headboard, yeah?” Baekho checks with him, and he doesn’t need to look to hear the eye-roll in Ren’s response, though he does as instructed nonetheless.

“I am _aware_ , darling,” he huffs. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done th-” His voice gives out half-way through, words stolen and purposed into a drawn out moan. “Fucking _hell_ , Baekho, warn a guy.”

Baekho pulls back to speak, effortlessly holding Ren above him. Ren’s vice-like grip on the headboard is more a formality, a way to ground himself, even, than to actually help hold himself up. Baekho is doing all of the lifting with ease. “Sorry, your highness,” he apologises over-dramatically, running his tongue around his rim and making him yelp. “I’ll be sure to send a telegram next time with appropriate warning.”

“You’re so lame,” Ren sighs, words holding little weight when he’s whining every other breath, hips rocking down onto Baekho’s tongue, “but by fuck do I love you.” His lover’s mouth otherwise occupied, it’s Ren’s voice that continues to fill the room with soft curses, murmured praise and, of course, moaning. He does a lot of that too, especially with the interspersed drags of teeth over his rim that hit every so often, usually when he least expects it. Baekho has a knack for that somehow, and for many things, to the extent that Ren is soon moaning louder, telling Baekho he needs to stop before it’s all over too soon. Reluctantly, Baekho does so, laying Ren down to stop his legs from buckling. 

“All good, my love?” he checks, as he always does, ever attentive to his Ren. The younger nods, though it’s weakly, his lower lip reddened from biting it and a flush high on his cheekbones, eyes watering. He’s a mess, in the most vividly beautiful way. Baekho always takes pride in that. 

“Are you finally going to fuck me, now?” Ren asks pointedly, his bluntness spiking a jolt of heat in Baekho’s stomach that settles there, stoking a fire already brewing. Baekho reaches out to grab his tub of lubricant again, and Ren’s eyes stay completely on him while he slicks himself up. Laying there, holding his thighs to keep them parted, waiting ready for Baekho, Ren looks like heaven brought down to Earth, a touch of divinity just for the sake of one lucky barkeep in a single town within a vast kingdom. _Ren’s kingdom,_ or so it would be one day. “Getting poetic in your head again?” Ren interrupts Baekho’s thoughts. They know each other far too well.

Sheepishly Baekho nods. “Always do when you’re like this,” he tells him, moving closer, replacing the hands on Ren’s thighs with his own. 

“I know, baby,” Ren sighs fondly, cupping his cheek. Baekho has to lean down to let him; Ren is taller overall, but Baekho has the edge when they’re not standing up. They kiss, and it’s brief but everything at the same time. The pair live for these small, self-contained moment, as these are the ones they can hold close while apart. Ren reaches down between, guiding Baekho’s cock to press against his rim— both of Baekho’s hands are on his thighs, after all. “Ready to ruin your prince?”

_They both gasp at the breach._

Slowly, Baekho pushes into him, filling Ren bit by bit as the younger keens, writhing beneath him. It’s always hard for him to stay still at this part, body overwhelmed by feeling so completely full. Baekho’s hands shift to the top of his thighs, fingers splaying over his hip bones to help keep him still. “You’re okay, baby,” he murmurs reassuringly, watching Ren’s face slowly relax as he focuses on Baekho’s voice. It’s always a bit much for him at first, Baekho’s size, but he knows Ren wouldn’t have it any other way. “So pretty, Rennie, so good, so beautiful,” he praises, compliments spilling past his lips in a jumble of reverence. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he goes on, knowing how his lover adores it, “so beautiful for me like this, all mine.”

“Yours,” Ren gasps, biting his lip again as Baekho finally stops moving, all the way in at last. He lets go of it and it springs back, reddened and plush and _so fucking pretty_. “All for you,” he promises, wriggling his hips as little as he adjusts himself, getting used to the stretch of Baekho inside him. Ren pauses, breathing slowly, eyes fluttering shut for a few long moments. When he opens them, Baekho can see he’s ready, his face no longer scrunched up and his eyes hungry as he looks up at the older. “Move,” he tells Baekho, his voice authoritative and showing a little of the future leader that the rest of the country saw when looking at the prince. 

Baekho just thinks he looks cute, glaring up from beneath him when Baekho takes a little too long to comply. Ren pouts, and Baekho doesn’t even think he means to; he’s just that desperate. As ever, Baekho can’t deny him for long, pulling back a little before moving forward once more, Ren whining and moaning under him as he builds up speed bit by bit. The bed starts to rock as it always does when Baekho fucks his baby hard, but it doesn’t matter. Baekho may not have much but the bar at least belongs to him, so nobody else is blessed with the sound of Ren’s whimpers mixed with thudding that grows steadily louder as Baekho’s headboard hits the wall. He has his livelihood and he has _him_ , the most coveted man in the entire kingdom, his prince, his Ren. Baekho need want for nothing else.

Soon after, Baekho notes once more how lucky he is to have his own place where they cannot be heard. Hooking Ren’s pretty legs over his shoulders, Baekho moves slower at first, the new position meaning a whole new volley of sensation for the man whining beneath him. Then, without warning, he fucks into him the hardest he has yet and Ren _screams_ , back arching and legs tightening around Baekho’s neck. Were he as strong as Baekho, that would hurt considerably, but Baekho is largely unaffected. It feels good, even, knowing how tensed up he’s made Ren. He’s cursing unintelligibly, every word jumbling into the next as he whimpers and moans, knuckles white and gripping tightly onto the sheets. 

When Baekho speeds up still further, the headboard surely leaving indents in the wall to add to marks from previous nights, Ren stops even attempting words. He only moans now, voice cracking on every other sound as his throat grows hoarse from overuse. Baekho sees his lower lip wobble, the tell-tale sign that Ren is reaching a certain stage of pleasure that Baekho covets like none other. 

_Angels are, after all, breathtakingly beautiful when they cry._

When the first tear falls, Baekho’s hold on Ren’s while he fucks him grows tight enough that the lace of his shirt rips right down the centre. Both halfs now hang loosely from his sides, swaying with the movement of Baekho driving roughly into him. Ren bites his trembling lip, trying and failing to hold back his tears until he simply lets them fall freely, giving into the pleasure that courses through his very being. He was far more embarrassed about this the first time it happened, but he’s cried while on Baekho’s dick enough times by now that both have pretty much come to expect it. It never grows old for Baekho, though, knowing he has the power to ruin his lover to such an extent. 

“Baby?” Baekho murmurs, and he slows enough to make sure Ren will be capable of speech. It’s torture to set such a pace, but he keeps his control. Thankfully, he can see that Ren’s gaze is still clear, that he’s still _there_ , but he checks still. “You with me, angel?” he asks, and Ren nods, albeit shakily.

“I’m fine, love,” he replies, voice so gone that Baekho has to _fight_ the urge to snap his hips into him at the sound. “I’ll be better when you make me come, though,” he jibes, and that’s more than enough to reassure Baekho that Ren is still entirely in the moment. Knowing Ren’s legs will cramp if he holds him like this for too much longer, Baekho shifts them again, sitting back and letting Ren fall into his lap instead. The movement means that his dick slips out and Ren hisses, mourning the loss at once. He’s not the only one, Baekho suddenly denied the tight heat he’s been blessed with until now, aching from withdrawal. Needily, Ren lines him up again, sitting down onto Baekho’s cock with a low groan that makes the older want to come right there and then. He doubts either of them are far from it, to be honest.

As much as Baekho knows Ren enjoys riding him, they both know that he doesn’t have the energy to right now, close to the edge and trembling from how hard he’s been fucked into. Luckily for them both, Baekho is more than strong enough to do all the work for the two of them at this point. Hands on Ren’s hips, Baekho lifts him, dropping Ren back onto his cock with ease. The slide of it drives them both wild, grip on Ren’s hips surely bruising as he fucks the other man down on him again and again and _again._ Desperate for even more despite his head clearly spinning as it is, Ren grabs onto Baekho’s broad shoulders. This is, Baekho soon learns, both to steady himself and to tug him close enough so that Ren is rutting against Baekho’s stomach each time he lifts him. 

Chasing a crescendo that suddenly reaches its peak, Ren is left with nowhere to go from an abundance of _everything_ all at once, crying out as he comes all over Baekho’s front and his own. The sight of his baby like this, breathless and sated, flushed from exertion and whimpering still, would be enough on its own to send Baekho over the edge too. Then, however, Ren arches his neck as Baekho fucks up into him and, keening from the ache of over-stimulation, more tears spill over. _“Baekho!”_ Ren gasps, and now it’s _him_ who sounds like he’s in rapture. It’s too much, _far_ too much for anyone to handle. Baekho is only human and cannot survive Ren when he sounds like that, when he looks so hauntingly beautiful, covered in release and tears, long lilac hair mussed around him. Hips stuttering, Baekho pulls out just in time, spurts of white streaking over the mess already painting Ren. 

For a long moment, they simply look at each other, taking in the sight of how ruined they both are. Baekho and Ren are the perfect instruments for each other’s undoing, and they’re always left a wreck at the other’s hands by the time the night is through. Baekho cannot imagine having anyone else in the world, not now that he’s known Ren.

_“I love you,”_ Ren says, and it’s a promise of forever.

_“And I you, my prince,”_ Baekho replies, and it’s a promise too, open-ended for Ren to use however he should wish.

They may only meet in secrecy now, but one day Ren will have the power to change that. One day, the kingdom will be his for the taking, his to rule over with Baekho by his side. That day will come, _must_ come, and it’s all Baekho clings to when he reaches the castle borders with Ren tucked against his side. After Ren calls out some sort of quiet signal, a side door opens, likely by Hwangmin’s doing. Hood of his cloak obscuring most of his face, Ren kisses him quickly, and then he’s gone once more.

_One day,_ Baekho repeats to himself, every step of his journey home, alone and aching from Ren’s absence.

_One day._

—————————

The morning comes, and Baekho wears the marks Ren has left with pride, batting away curious enquiries left right and centre. He has quite the posse of admirers, not that he’s ever really noticed them. He has eyes for only one— they’re all left disappointed, failing to hold the bartender’s attention. Instead, he’s softly smiling, listening in to the conversation two castle guards are having at a table nearby.

_From what he can hear, the precious crown prince Ren, heir to the kingdom… has come down with a cold._

**Author's Note:**

> I somehow wrote this all entirely in less than two days, i guess baekren gay is sufficient motivation?? either way, lmk what you thought of it plspls, i thrive on validation (kudos r also very good thank u xx). you can find me on twitter @minbiins, where i scream about Many Groups, come say hi <33


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